Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “He did? Didn’t you see how he reacted?” Mac couldn’t believe Kevin’s response.

  “You have to remember his mental state, Mac. The guy is on medication and who knows what all. He isn’t the most stable person in the world. Not the smartest either. Don’t get me wrong.

  I’m not saying he’s innocent. In fact, the personality disorder shot him way up to the top of my list.”

  Mac reined in his indignation. “I’m glad to hear that. For a minute there, I thought you were losing it.”

  Kevin smiled. “Uh-huh. Your impatience is showing, Mac . . . and your lack of experience. We’ll pay him a visit tomorrow, after the funeral. We still have to make sure we don’t get too focused, though.

  I don’t like being in the fourth day of this gig and not having a defined suspect yet. The longer this goes on, the less our chances are of making this case.”

  “No kidding. And thanks to my grandmother, we’ve got another person of interest.”

  “We’ll just have to work extra hours.” Kevin tipped his head from side to side, rubbing his neck muscles as he headed for the door.

  “Kev, just one thing. Do you think we should set up surveillance on Gordon? See where he goes, who he talks to?”

  “That sounds like a good plan if we can find the manpower.

  That reminds me—the page I got during the interview was from Meredith Hoyt. She found a photograph of a guy Megan dated a couple of times. She’s working at the health club right now. My inclination is to get that info and hold off on Tim and Matthew DeLong for a bit.”

  After briefing Eric, Kevin and Mac hurried out to Mac’s car and arrived at the athletic club at ten. Meredith greeted them as they came in and motioned for them to go into the same office they’d used the day before. She grabbed a sheet of paper from underneath the counter and stepped into the room.

  “If my boss finds out about this it could mean my job, so don’t mention it to anybody, please.” Meredith brushed her hair back. “I’m only doing this because I really want you to catch whoever killed Megan.”

  “We understand,” Mac said. “What do you have for us?”

  “Um . . . like I told you, Detective Bledsoe, I found a picture of a guy Megan seemed chummy with, in the club directory.” Meredith handed the computer printout to Mac. “We take a picture of all our clients so they can’t loan their membership identification to others. His name is Joe Higgins. He’s been a member for about four months. He and Megan joked around a lot, and I think she might have dated him.”

  Mac held the picture between them so Kevin could see it. He was a decent-looking guy with a square chin and thick neck muscles. Long black hair curled around his face. He had a friendly smile.

  “Looks like a football player,” Mac commented.

  “Actually,” Meredith said, “I think I heard him tell one of the other guys that he’d been a wrestler.”

  “I can see why Megan might be attracted to him,” Kevin leaned back in his chair.

  “He’s an average-looking guy, really. He looks better in the picture than up close. He has some pockmarks on his face from acne or something.”

  “Do you remember when you last saw him?” Mac asked.

  “I ran up his club history, which lists every time he comes in to work out. He came in four or five times a week for the first three months, but he’s slacked off in the last month. Joe’s last visit was on the eleventh. That’s not unusual. People always decline on their club use after the initial membership weeks. Heck, some folks don’t come back at all. The last time he came in, he also used a visitor pass.”

  “Visitor pass?” Kevin glanced at the photo again.

  “Yeah, you can bring in visitors if you’re a club member. We encourage it to get new club members.”

  “Any idea who the visitor was?” Kevin asked.

  She smiled. “I’m way ahead of you. I found the signature of the guest.” She handed them another sheet of paper. “This was the guest list for the eleventh. There are only seven names on it, and five of them were tanning appointments from nonmembers. I crossed those off. Joe usually came in around seven in the evening for his workout, and he had made an appointment with Megan as his personal trainer that night. I’m assuming that the second-to-last name on the list was his guest because of the time of day and because the only other name that wasn’t a tanning appointment is the first name on the list, which would have been before eight in the morning.” She paused for a breath.

  “How do you know that?” Kevin looked over the list.

  “Am I good or what?” Meredith grinned. “The tanning appointments helped me zero in on the guest names. So number six here must be Joe’s friend. I can’t make out the first name, starts with an M, though. Last name is Wallace.”

  “I agree, looks like M. Wallace.” Kevin handed the paper to Mac. “Can we keep these? They may come in handy later.”

  “Sure, I made copies. Just don’t tell anyone.”

  Kevin nodded. “Thanks for your help. We’ll let you know if we turn anything up on this information. We’re talking to quite a few folks right now.”

  “I hope you guys catch Megan’s killer. I’m afraid of my own shadow lately.” Meredith folded her arms. “The other gals and myself walk each other out to the parking lot after work, even in the middle of the day. We’re all pretty freaked out.”

  “That’s understandable,” Mac said. “We’ll do our best. Thanks again, and please call if you think of anything else.” The two men showed themselves out.

  “Great, another guy to track down.” Mac turned the air on full blast and grabbed his sunglasses from the visor. “We can put him on the list with the other hundred or so guys Megan liked to flirt with.”

  “No kidding,” Kevin said, looking at the papers Meredith gave him. “Joe Higgins’s address isn’t far from here. We may as well drive by on our way back to the P.D. Do you have your Thomas Guide in here somewhere?”

  “Under your seat.”

  Kevin retrieved the map book. “Hmm. I was right. It’s not too far. Just go east to 242nd in Gresham and go north a couple of blocks at the most. You know, down by where the old greyhound racetrack was before they turned it into a Home Depot. That’ll take us right into Parkview.”

  Mac shifted the car into gear. “I’m going to need to get some gas sometime this morning. I don’t suppose you’d want to take your car.”

  “Out of the question.” Kevin tossed him a smile. “Besides, you need the experience.”

  “Experience!” Mac shook his head. “I drove over two hundred miles a day as a road troop.”

  “That’s different. This is detective driving,” Kevin said with a serious look on his face. “It takes much greater skill.”

  “Oh, brother.” Mac rolled his eyes. Truth was, he didn’t mind driving at all.

  “Turn here, 242nd. Okay, Parkview should be right up here. There it is—1300.”

  Mac pulled into the parking lot of the two-story apartment complex, located across the street from a city park. The plainlooking apartments were constructed in an L shape, with open-air parking structures along one of the buildings.

  “Looks pretty run-down.” Mac’s gaze traveled over the faded yellow paint.

  “There’s apartment fourteen right there, on the ground floor.” Kevin pointed it out and Mac parked in an empty spot under one of the covered parking structures. They walked toward the apartment, noticing the curtains were drawn on the single front window. The door was metal, with brown paint flaking off the bottom half.

  Kevin knocked on the door as he removed his identification from his jacket. Both detectives took posts on opposite sides of the door out of habit. Years of training and horror stories had taught them never to stand directly in front of the door when knocking, as that was the usual path a bullet would travel if a suspect opted to answer the knock with gunfire.

  Kevin knocked again as Mac kept his gaze trained on the window, looking for a glimpse of movement. “Looks like nobody’
s home,” Mac said.

  “Yeah. Let’s go hit up the manager and see if he has any information on the tenant.”

  They walked around the first apartment building to the second, finding the lower-level apartment with a manager sign on the door. Kevin and Mac stepped up to the sliding glass door. “Is this the back door or what?” Kevin asked.

  “It’s the front,” a little girl told them as she came up beside them on her tricycle.

  “Thank you.” Mac hunkered down beside her. “What’s your name?”

  “Mary Ross. I’m five.”

  “Well, hello, Mary Ross. Do you live around here?”

  “No, but I stay here with Theresa when my mommy is at work.” Mary got off her three-wheeler and ran into the apartment.

  Moments later a woman in her late forties came to the door carrying a dishtowel in her hands.

  “Are you looking to rent an apartment?” She looked them up and down.

  “Are you Theresa?” Kevin asked.

  “Yes, my husband and I manage the complex. I run a day care too.” She nodded her head at two toddlers in a playpen and another child sitting at the table coloring. “These aren’t all mine.”

  Kevin displayed his identification. “I’m Detective Bledsoe and this is Detective McAllister. We’re with the Oregon State Police. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about a tenant?”

  “Which one?”

  “Could you tell us who lives in apartment number fourteen?”

  “No one now. It’s been empty for about a week. A guy named Joe Higgins lived there for about two years. He said he needed a bigger place.”

  “Do you know where he moved to?”

  “No, I don’t. My husband usually deals with the tenants, so I didn’t know him that well. I can get you a copy of the rental agreement if you think it might help. Um . . . not today, though. Would tomorrow be okay?”

  “That would be great.” Kevin handed her his card. “Give me a call when you have it and we’ll swing back by. Do you know if Mr. Higgins had any roommates or if he was married?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll have to ask Bernie. Fourteen is just a one bedroom, so there’s not much space. Like I said, he told us he was moving to a bigger place. Is he in some kind of trouble or something?”

  “No,” Kevin replied. “We’re just looking to talk to him to see if he could help us out with a case we’re working.”

  “Oh, that’s good. He seemed like a nice enough guy. I’ll get that file when Bernie comes home and I can shed some kids.”

  “That would be fine, ma’am. You have a good day,” Kevin said.

  He and Mac walked back toward their car. “Let’s give Tim Morris a call at the hotel. Maybe we can swing by and pick him up on the way to the P.D.”

  Mac was beginning to feel like a ricocheting bullet the way they were popping from one place to another. “Mind if we stop for gas and a coffee first? I could really use a latte.”

  “Lead on, partner. A cup of coffee sounds mighty fine.” Kevin made the call to Tim as they drove. A moment later, he folded the phone and settled it into his pocket.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. Tim checked out of his hotel room this morning.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Do you think the fiancé skipped?” Mac turned onto the main road and pulled into a gas station. He rolled the window down and told the attendant to fill it up.

  “I don’t know what to think. I doubt he’d leave before the funeral unless he killed her and thought we were on to him.”

  “The guy could be on his way to Mexico by now.”

  “True, but let’s not jump to conclusions. I better give Eric a call.” Kevin picked up his phone again and dialed the number to the P.D.

  Eric answered the phone almost immediately.

  “Hi, it’s Kevin.”

  “Hey, fatty, what’s shaking? You guys heading in?”

  “Shortly. I just called the fiancé and found out he’s checked out of the hotel. That raises a red flag.”

  “Not to worry, pal. Tim called just after you left. Said he’d be in around noon if that was okay. I told him it was.”

  “Hmm.” Kevin frowned. “Wonder what he’s up to? Well, if he’s coming in, I won’t worry just yet.”

  “Did you find out anything at the health club?”

  Kevin reported their visit with Meredith and the subsequent visit to the vacant apartment. “So far, just another guy to talk to, nothing hair raising. Say, did Philly and Russ get hold of Brandon King for the polygraph?”

  “He’s in the hot seat as we speak. Philly went by his apartment and got him out of bed.”

  “Ouch.” Kevin grimaced. “How’d you like to wake up and see old fabulous Philly’s face staring down at you?”

  “Yeah. Waking up to Philly would give anyone a scare.

  Probably will give the kid nightmares for years to come.”

  Philly spewed a verbal response in the background that made Kevin’s hair curl.

  “Philly says good morning to you and Mac,” Eric translated.

  “I heard.”

  “Mac and I are going to grab a cup of coffee on the way back; you want to join us for a break?” Kevin glanced at Mac and pointed to the Starbucks on the opposite corner.

  Mac gave a thumbs-up. After taking his gas receipt, he twisted the key, revved up the engine, and took off.

  “No thanks, I’ll meet you another time,” Eric answered. “I’m already on my second pot here so I’m off the java for the rest of the day. Besides, I want to hang out here until the poly exams are done.”

  “Sounds like a winner.” Kevin glanced at his watch. “Give me a call if the kid flunks the test. I want to conduct the postexam interview.” “Will do,” Eric said.

  Kevin tossed the phone back into his briefcase. “This one is on me. I feel like a frou-frou drink this morning.”

  “A frou what?” Mac laughed.

  “You know, one of those espresso things—like a latte or a mocha. A frou-frou, touchy-feely drink. The ones that run about three or four bucks a pop.”

  “Oh, those fooh-fooh drinks.” Mac pulled into the parking lot and grabbed his briefcase out of the back, thinking he might take a look at the notes. They had too many leads they hadn’t even made contact with.

  Kevin opened his case and grabbed something out of it before joining Mac in the coffee shop. At the counter he read through the offerings and reached for his wallet. “What are you having?”

  “I’ll have a latte with a bagel.” Mac reached for his wallet as well. “But let me get it.”

  Kevin elbowed him out of the way. “Would you relax for the first time in your life and go sit down? I said I’m buying. Here, take this and go grab the comfy chairs.”

  “Okay, suit yourself, moneybags.” Mac took the book Kevin handed him. “In that case, I’ll have a grande mocha and don’t hold back on the whipped cream.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Mac sat down in one of the cushioned chairs and set Kevin’s book on the table. When he realized what it was, he slid it down beside him, as if he was somehow breaking a rule by merely possessing a Bible in public. After a few seconds, he lifted the top cover and started reading the names of various chapters. He was surprised at how many he remembered. As a kid he’d memorized all the books and a lot of passages.

  “You ought to get one this size.”

  Startled, Mac shut the Bible and glanced around. His gaze landed on a man dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans at the next table.

  “What was that?” Mac asked. “Were you talking to me?”

  The burly man held up a navy blue book no bigger than his palm. “I said you ought to get one this size. These pocket Bibles are a lot easier to pack around. I only carry my big one like that when I go to church.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s a handy size.”

  The guy stood up, tucked his hard hat under his arm, and gave Mac a wave as he left. Mac picked up the Bible
again and turned it. He liked the feel of the soft leather against his skin. And strangely enough, he liked the way holding it made him feel. Mac set the book on the table. The sensation had been nothing more than a visit to his boyhood when reading the Bible had been his comfort just before he turned off the light and went to sleep.

  “A mocha and a bagel for his highness.” Kevin set the items down on the table that separated the two easy chairs and eased into his chair with coffee in hand.

  “Thanks.” Mac took a sip of his mocha then set it on the table so he could scarf down a few bites of bagel and cream cheese. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

  “Don’t mention it. So tell me, how are you and Linda doing?”

  Mac shrugged, mentally kicking himself. He’d been so focused on the case, he hadn’t even thought about calling her last night.

  “Um . . . okay I guess.”

  “Are you sure you really love this girl?”

  “Sure. She’s beautiful and kind. And I think it’s about time I settle down and start raising a family. I’m not getting any younger.”

  Kevin looked like he was about to say something but instead took a drink.

  Mac had the distinct feeling that Kevin didn’t think too much of his answer. Not surprising—Mac hadn’t liked it either. He took advantage of the uncomfortable silence to change the subject. “So how’s your family?”

  “Good. I’ll be marrying off my oldest later this year.”

  “Great, congratulations.” Mac raised his coffee as if to toast the occasion.

  “Thanks. Jean and I are really excited. She’s marrying a good man who loves her and shares her faith. And most important, he loves and fears her dad.” Kevin grinned. “Yes sir, it’s really rewarding to raise your children with the best intentions and have them turn out all right. I just can’t believe my baby is getting married. It seems like yesterday we were picking out baby things and trying to decide on a name.”

  Kevin teared up and Mac, not knowing how to respond, changed the subject again. “Good mocha. Mine’s just right.”